Slowly and Intimately
by OTPForLife
Summary: During "The Avengers" when Clint is brainwashed and Loki threatens Natasha that he'll have Clint kill her. He attempts to kill her.


_Not until I make him kill you! Slowly, intimately, in every way he knows you fear! And then he'll wake just long enough to see his good work._

Natasha Romanoff woke to the sound of a large, metal door clanking loudly on steel door frame, the sound causing her headache to worsen. She groaned and put her hand to her head, sitting up, but was met with something hard being hit to the side of her head. She grunted in pain and fell to the cold, hard, floor again; the force of the impact to her head caused her head to spike with pain and small amounts of blood trickled from her temple.

Natasha looked up and saw Clint Barton standing over her with a long, metal pipe in his hand. His arrows placed perfectly in the quiver and bow slung over his back in a way he could easily get to it. "Clint?" She muttered incoherently. His bright, watery-blue eyes seemed to glow menacingly under the dim light of the dark room.

"Clint, what are you doing?" She asked, her voice starting to strengthen as she was getting her energy back, her mind clicking back into reality instead of just being fuzzy.

"Taking out orders," he said his voice hard and devoid of emotion.

"What? Orders from who?" She was tempted to sit up again, but when she would move, Clint would raise the pipe and Natasha would stop moving. She was a fighter, but she wasn't a fool, she knew Clint could easily overpower her due to his larger body mass.

"Loki."

"Loki? Clint, he's the enemy." Natasha knew he was been compromised, but didn't realize Clint would hurt her because someone asked him too. "What are your orders?"

"He's not the enemy, you are. He's expanded my mind, opened it up to all new sorts of abilities and made me an even stronger person. My orders are to kill you," he said in a flat tone of voice as if it didn't phase him. "In every way I know you fear, slowly and intimately." She gulped, she knew that he knew all her greatest fears and weak points.

_I have to fight him, I have to take him down before he takes me down. I just don't think I would be able to kill him if it came down to it. He saved my life, now I save his._

She then jumped up and lunged at Clint, who easily grabbed her by the neck and threw her to the floor. She grunted at the harsh impact and rolled over a couple times. She jumped back to her feet gracefully and stood with her fists out in front of her to block any attack he could dish out. She knew and could calculate his moves with the sparred in the past, but now that he was brainwashed, he was unpredictable; and Natasha didn't like the calmness in his eyes, the dry tone of voice, and how at ease, yet completely menacing, he seemed.

Natasha feared for her friend. _What did he do to you, Clint?_ Natasha knew what it was like to be unmade, only to be "modified" and "fixed", and put back together again. She knew what it was like to have her brain picked and poked at, to be made into someone else's weapon…someone else's pawn.

Natasha knew assassins like Clint and herself weren't easily replaceable, so she started to wonder why Loki wanted Clint to kill her. She was valuable and deadly, so why kill her? Natasha didn't like the idea of being manipulated into Loki's weapon, but she would be alive and that's all that would matter to her.

"Oh, please, Natasha, don't bother with that. I know your every move and can calculate it down to the last punch. You won't get away, your death will be at my hands." Clint said with a soft chuckle as if he were excited for the thrill of the fight and kill.

Natasha felt her blood run cold and for once in her life, she was truly scared.

"You're not going to get away with it, I'm going to save you, Clint, trust me." She covered up the fear and panic in her voice with a mix monotone and hopefulness.

"You can't save me from something I _enjoy_." He then raised the pipe in his hand and went to strike. Natasha easily grabbed it and twisted it in her hand, thus twisting his arm back. He went to grab at her, but she grabbed his other arm and held him away from her. She then pulled him closer and swiftly hit the underside of his jaw with the top of her head. He grunted softly, dropped the pipe he had been holding, and took a few steps back at the hard impact, up until this point he had underestimated her and her strength. Now he knew what he was dealing with.

Clint lunged at her, grabbing her by her slim waist and throwing her to the ground again. She had braced herself just in the nick of time, but she wasn't expecting Clint to start kicking her repeatedly in the rib cage. She grunted as every hard, fast, impact of his steel-toe boots hit her over and over in the same spot. He then pushed her to her back with his foot and then jumped on top of her, pinning her hands under his knees.

"Clint...please snap out of it…." Natasha said weakly, her voice fading once again due to being kicked and her breathing hitched and ragged.

"Shut up!" he screamed and punched her in the jaw. He then started to repeatedly punch her in the face over and over again. Natasha had to clench her jaw to keep from crying in pain as each harsh punch his her face, the rough leather of the finger tabs on his left hand only scraping her face up more. After some time, he stopped and thought of his next attack.

Natasha was breathing heavily, her face all bloody and bruised. Natasha looked up at him, her green eyes pleading for him to stop and snap out of it, but she was only met with his cold, practically lifeless eyes. "Clint, please, just snap out of it." Natasha pleaded, breathless and trying to bite back coughs. She now wasn't too sure if she was trying to save them both, or just trying to save her own life.

"Like I said, shut up!" He struck her again and, by now, her face was bruised and bloody, lip split in multiple places and eyes fearful.

Still she pushed on, trying to save him. "Clint, you can do it, you can snap out of it. I know, you're strong and you don't deserve to have your brain picked with like this."

Clint now had enough of her and wrapped his hands around her throat and, with one hand, pressed his fingers under her jaw and pressed upward. With his other hand, he pressed his fingers into the hollow of her throat. He had her in a vulcher-like grip and wasn't going to let go, no matter how hard she struggled. She was squirming under his grip, trying to pull her hands out from under his knees, her hands were starting to hurt and throb from being pinned under his knees for so long. She was frantically kicking her feet, trying to shake him off; but his much larger size in comparison to her, was just too hard for the smaller assassin.

Natasha was now starting to gasp for breath, trying to frantically get that precious air into her lungs and brain so she could think clearly. Not only was she gasping for breath, but she was also wheezing with whatever little air she got into her lungs. Her head was starting to pound and her vision was going black and fuzzy around the edges, tears spilling over the corners of her eyes. Her lips and other places such as her fingertips were starting to turn blue. Soon her frantic movements under him became less frantic and she stopped flailing her legs around.

Just as quickly as Clint started to strangle her, he stopped and got off of her. Natasha started to cough and gasp for air, her hands clawing weakly at her throat. She breathed heavily and coughed violently, but forced herself to her feet, dizzy and swaying. She looked over at Clint, who was just standing there, Natasha knew there was going to be no way out of this, so she turned and ran. She figured it was better to save herself and get out, then try to save them both.

I'm so so sorry, Clint. She thought over and over again as she ran.

"Nat, wait!" Natasha stopped, she had heard a difference in his voice, it sounded more caring and like he had snapped out of it. She turned around and was met with Clint holding a nocked arrow in her direction. Before she could react and jump away, he let the arrow fly forward. The arrow flew forward and landed deeply in Natashas chest, inches away from her heart. Natasha gasped and stumbled backward, eventually just falling backward and putting her hands around the arrow.

"No use, Nat, don't even bother pulling the arrow out, it won't work. The tip of the arrow is barbed and is embedded in your body." Clint said as he placed his bow back to where it was wrapped around his chest and back. Natasha was gasping in pain and for breath as she felt blood slowly starting to trickle into her lungs. When she would cough, she was also coughing up small amounts of blood, her chest heaving in and out.

Clint walked up to her and started to kick her again, when he kicked her, he would kick her with just enough force to push her across the floor a few feet at a time. The arrow would embed itself deeper into her chest when he did kick her. Natasha's body was now starting to twitch and she was starting to loose her feel with the world.

Clint walked back up to Natasha and stood over her, looking down at her. She looked up at him, her weak eyes still pleading for him to snap out of it. She now resorted to desperation and last resorts.

"My little hawk, please snap out of it. C-Clint, please… my little hawk." She said with tears falling down her face and she felt her body start to get weaker and weaker.

"Not until you're dead," he bend over and picked her up by the front of her Black Widow suit, Natasha was limp in his grip, to weak to move. He then pulled something out of his pocket, it had a noticeable red black widow mark on it. Natasha got a closer look at the object, it was a syringe-looking object with an orange cap over it.

"There's a certain sense of irony to kill Black Widow with the venom from the same spider, well its mixed in with other, stronger, poisons such as cyanide poison, arsenic, and botulinum toxin. Seems excessive, I know, but I want to make sure you don't wake up ever again. Remember how in training, well I don't know if the KGB told you this, but I was told that spies would kill themselves with cyanide tablets when captured. Should be satisfying watching you dye the same way." Clint said and removed the cap with his teeth, spitting it out on to the floor.

Natasha quickly grabbed at his hands and arm, trying to push him off of her one last time, but it simply was no use. The hand that was holding her in his arm had been wrapped around her back and his massive hand just at the base of her neck; he moved it up and grabbed her hair, pulling her head back. He then stuck the needle into her neck and plunged the cocktail of poison and venom into her veins. He let Natasha's weak body and the syringe fall to the floor, she rolled over onto her back and started to wheeze as the fast acting position started to take effect.

Natasha looked up at Clint with tears in her eyes. "Clint, I still love you…" she managed to say, because despite everything, she still did love him. She know this wasn't his fault, that he was brainwashed right now. She started to cough and cough up a white foam at that. Everything started to get more blurry and her heartbeat picked up to a rapid pace. She knew she had minuets, if not seconds, left.

Natasha's veins were starting to burn and pain ran through her body. By now Natasha was starting to breathe shallowly and was having a hard time keeping her eyes open. She was still coughing up foam and now blood, but her body was starting to convulse and sometimes even getting paralyzed while convulsing.

Moments later, Natasha grew too weak to keep her eyes opened and she closed them. Shortly after, she drew her last breath, exhaling slowly and the life leaving her body. Her body going fully limp and laying flat on the ground.

Clint had watched the whole thing, smiling softly as he knew it was a successful mission and that his boss would be pleased with him, but something happened. He felt the magic that had been brainwashing him for so long lift and he was able to think clearly. Think for himself. He looked down at Natasha, he first noticed one of his arrows sticking out of her chest, and then the foam from her mouth, and the syringe next to her body.

He walked over to her body and dropped to his knees. He pressed his two fingers on the side of her neck to check for a pulse, or a sign of life. There was none and he knew it was his fault, that this was his good work.

"Natasha!"


End file.
